


Riptide

by Mangacat



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-01-01
Packaged: 2017-12-04 01:54:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/705153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mangacat/pseuds/Mangacat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mike realizes just how little he can stand to lose Harvey, when their lives are threatened in a hostage situation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Riptide

**Author's Note:**

> Last minute fill for the ‘hostage’ square on my hc_bingo. I give no guarantees for sense and coherency, but I just HAD to write Suits-fic sometime.

Blood trickles slowly over clean shaven skin and makes its way perilously towards the exquisite fabric of an immaculate pin-striped shirt. Mike’s eyes just focus on the sluggish flow because he needs something to keep his attention from what is happening around him and the fast, fluttering pulse under the thin red line is just the right thing to assure him that Harvey is still breathing and alive.

It is a morbid thought, regarding life blood as a kind of lifeline, but Mike knows that he’ll focus on the gun that’s being waved into their faces instead if he doesn’t concentrate on a distraction and he’ll definitely do something stupid. He babbles when he’s stressed out and somehow Mike feels that the guy with the gun wouldn’t have much appreciation for one such customary rant.

Harvey is sprawled over the couch where he fell after the gun hit his temple and has been told to stay while the rest of the offices are being cleared out. His eyes are closed and his nostrils are flaring, and Mike witnesses and catalogues all these little things that Harvey’s body does that he never really noticed before. Like the smooth bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallows, the little furrow between his brows that only ever shows up when Harvey frowns and it miraculously smoothed out of existence whenever he’s feeling content or confident or relaxed. Or the way he worries the hem of his vest between thumb and forefinger while the rest of his fingers are splayed over his thigh.

And then Harvey opens his eyes, revealing that deep chocolate colour, pupils blown wide and unfocused until they flicker and find Mike’s where he’s huddled back against the desk and suddenly it’s like a current runs between them. Mike recalls every conversation, gesture, facial expression that they shared and as the daunting threat against his life fades into the background behind what it is that sprung up between them, he realizes that he’s deeply, madly in…

The barrel of the gun suddenly presses against the skin of Harvey’s throat, making him visibly flinch from the biting cold of the metal and he breaks the connection between them to turn all his attention to the man in front of him who’s spewing demands and insults all wrapped in one, but Mike doesn’t hear, doesn’t…

He feels the blood rushing in his ears, feels like he’s afloat in the middle of the sea after being dragged out by a temperamental current and he realizes that he could lose this, right now, now that he’s found it, before he even got to say…

A deafening bang travels like a shockwave through Mike’s body before he can finish the thought, jarring him to the bones, freezing the blood in his veins until his brain processes the muted thump and the clatter of a fallen gun on the carpet.

Blood suddenly feels warm and sticky under his fingers, but the skin underneath is hot and alive and unblemished and there’s a neat little hole in the glass door where the sniper round entered to hit the gunman’s head before he could pull the trigger and …

“I’m fine, Mike, I’m fine, you can let…”

“ _No_.”

And Harvey let’s him hold on, just this once. Just this once, flowing with the tide.

 


End file.
